Oscar 2026: Analyzing Sentimental Value and the Void

Selected for some of the most prestigious festivals on the international circuit and received with respect by critics, though with polarized reactions from audiences, Sentimental Value enters the awards season buoyed less by emotional impact and more by auteur prestige.

The director returns to the territory that defined his career: broken family dynamics, characters incapable of communicating, and a mise-en-scène built entirely out of silence.

The promise seems to be that of an intimate drama about reconciliation and memory. However, the question that slowly imposes itself is different: What happens when a film talks so much about feelings without actually feeling them?

Trailer

The Plot

Following the mother's death, an estranged father attempts to reconnect with his two daughters. One is a struggling actress whose performances he has never bothered to watch, and the other is a devoted mother and wife whose husband and son the father cannot even name.

Gustav Borg (played by Stellan Skarsgård) is a film director. He lived with his wife for a few years during his daughters' childhood until they separated; since then, he has been nothing more than a shadow in their lives. Gustav prioritized his filmmaking career, even casting his daughters in projects when the family was still together. Later, he isolated himself, seeing them only at "important" moments when he was not shooting a film or attending a festival.

The film's true premise begins when the father decides, after years of inactivity, to shoot a project in which he wants his actress daughter, Nora Borg (brilliantly played by Renate Reinsve, the lead in the director's previous film, The Worst Person in the World), and his grandson, the son of Agnes (played by Inga Ibsdotter), to star. Both women refuse to give him their attention, but despite the rejection, he decides to proceed with the film anyway.

The film's primary decline stems from its direction. There is a beautiful attempt here by the director to seek what we call "subtext" in cinema, referring to that which is left unsaid but is clearly understood. In the director's previous film, which won at Cannes, the strength lay precisely in this: the silences and the internal thoughts of characters that the audience could intuitively grasp.

The problem here is excess. The film tries so hard not to speak that it ends up feeling hollow. Ironically, a metaphor of emptiness prevails; the excesses are found in exhaustive scenes of white walls, vacant rooms, and characters staring into nothingness in silence. While it is understandable to avoid being overly literal with a message, when nothing is said, one might conclude that there is simply nothing to say.

If anything keeps Sentimental Value afloat, it is the cast. Renate Reinsve reaffirms the dramatic prowess she has previously shown, constructing a wounded character who oscillates between hardness and a childlike craving for approval. Inga Ibsdotter offers a delicate counterpoint, grounded in everyday life and a silent attempt to maintain some emotional stability.

And then there is Elle Fanning, in an almost ironic performance. She is an actress so naturally expressive that to play the artificiality of a "bad actress," she must actively hide her own competence. This metalinguistic play works, creating moments of genuine estrangement within a film that, at times, feels far too static.

It is these performances that suggest the emotion the script insists on suppressing. Even when the film retreats into its own silences, the actors allow everything that remains unspoken to escape through the cracks.

It has become clear that this year's Oscars, and perhaps the entire awards circuit, are leaning heavily into stories about older, absent father figures. These are men who failed their children and now seek late-stage redemption.

It is understandable why it might be important or relatable for older generations to believe you can forgive someone who hurt you your whole life without them ever saying "I'm sorry." The film’s tone mimics a generational trait, which is the attempt to translate feelings that cannot be put into words into actions or grand gestures.

Fortunately, the newer generation has different goals centered on personal and collective growth, and the key to that is communication. Honestly, it is frustrating to witness the redemption of a man who never once expresses regret, remorse, or even a desire for forgiveness.

More than that, it is agonizing to watch a daughter yearning for her father's approval. This is an approval that will never come, or at best, will be translated into yet another shot of an empty house and more silence, when all she needed to hear were words.

No Words and No Forgiveness

Sentimental Value is a mosaic of absences, a depressing portrait of parental abandonment, emotional disconnection, and generational conflict.

The reconciliation here feels forced, and there is no need to mince words: it is decadent and egocentric. Ultimately, the film itself forgives the absent father because, deep down, it is screaming for its own forgiveness. But you can only be forgiven if you ask for it.

Rating: 2 out of 5

And what about you? What did you think of the film?

Personally, I am just terrified that my dad might be the next one to make an ego-trip movie. Until next time!